


Through hardships to the stars

by polychrome



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Blutbad, Investigation, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polychrome/pseuds/polychrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating a string of strange murders, Nick finds out that Monroe has been scenting him and is reluctant to tell him why. Meanwhile, there is a strange group emerging among Portland's art patrons...</p><p>Don't think this has much in the way of spoilers, but, just in case, I've seen up to the end of Season 2. Sexytimes and m/m in later chapters, more warnings and characters likely to appear as this goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through hardships to the stars

“I’m just going to ask her a few questions,” Nick insists, his eyes trained on a middle-aged redhead across the other end of the crowded bar.  
  
“I’m telling you, man, this isn’t going to go well. One whiff of you and she’ll know that something’s up,” Monroe says, shaking his head. “She’ll be out of the room before you can say ‘hey, come here often?’”  
  
Nick ignores him and starts in the woman’s direction when Monroe tugs him back by one elbow.  
  
“Okay, fine, but maybe I should do it,” Monroe says, looking for all the world like he knows that’s a terrible idea.  
  
“You want to do it.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You want to go probe the unidentified Wesen that may or may not be responsible for a string of highly gory and sexually creative murders?”  
  
Monroe looks from the woman – who is at this point surrounded by a small flock of older tuxedoed men all hanging on to her every word – to Nick, nodding continuously, and swallows.  
  
“Yup. Totally.”  
  
Nick sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  
  
“Ok, fine.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“We’ll go. Together.” Nick twists his arm to reverse the hold Monroe has on him and pulls him across the room, keeping his face as ceremonious as possible while dragging along a bristling Blutbad. As they near the woman he lets go and dons his most charming grin. The woman turns to him after precisely two seconds, her head cocked slightly to one side as she studies him with apparent interest.  
  
“Hi, Nick Kessler.”  
  
The woman smiles, teeth white and eyes sparkling, and holds out her hand.  
  
“Helena Laçon, charmed.”  
  
She continues to look at Nick like he is some fascinating logic puzzle or a particularly intricately cut jewel.  
  
“And this is Monroe…uh...”  
  
“Edwards,” Monroe supplies, stepping out from where he was definitely-not-hiding behind Nick. “It’s a pleasure.”  
  
Helena’s eyes travel from Nick to Monroe and back again, and she withdraws her hand.  
  
“Of course. And what brings you to my little party?”  
  
The question is addressed at Monroe.  
  
“We’re both great patrons of the arts, what you’ve done for the community here by bringing the Schwabe paintings escapes expression,” weaved Monroe, offhand.  
  
“We were just discussing last month’s Diefenbach exhibit down at the Blackfish, did you manage to make the closing event?” Nick fishes, thinking back to every high-class arts party he’d ever seen on Miss Marple for inspiration. “It was absolutely rousing.”  
  
Helena’s glance barely flickers to Nick before returning to Monroe.  
  
“Yes, did you catch the Diefenbach closing function?” Monroe repeats. Helena answers immediately, again only to him.  
  
“Why of course, it was wonderful! I didn’t manage to come away with anything more than fond memories though, the Certosa guards its paintings very carefully. Are you a collector yourself?”  
  
“No, just an admirer.”  
  
“And your…friend, does he collect?”  
  
Nick looks from Monroe to the woman and briefly considers waving his arms in front of the two.  
  
“No, no I don’t,” he says instead and the woman’s eyes again only flicker over to him for a moment.  
  
“He’s much in the same situation,” Monroe says, earning an incredulous glare from Nick. Helena clears her throat gently, uncomfortable but concealing it beneath layers of cultured upbringing.  
  
“Well. It’s been lovely to meet you both, but I must return to these gentlemen. Have a good evening.”  
  
“Likewise,” returns Monroe before looking at Nick’s face and immediately turning on his heel and starting away from the scene. Nick seizes the opportunity.  
  
“I hope to see you again soon, Miss Laçon,” he says very deliberately. She turns back towards him.  
  
“Perhaps not,” Helena says, her voice quieter now but her face congenial, her eyes finally meeting his again. “I know it can be difficult for outsiders to understand, but it would be wise for you not to keep your friend waiting.” She glances past him to Monroe, who is very pointedly staring at some Art. “You shouldn’t even be speaking with me like this. But it’ll ease up with time, don’t worry. And do have a good night.”  
  
With a final smile, Helena turns away and is embraced back into her clique, leaving Nick dumbfounded. Eventually approaching Monroe, who is still holding his chin and nodding enthusiastically at a painting, Nick spreads his arms.  
  
“What just happened?”  
  
Monroe turns and looks at him as though he’s just run into him in a supermarket.  
  
“Nick! Hi. I just realised that I’m late to a…thing. A meeting. I’ve got to go, you don’t mind, do you?” He rattles off. Nick responds mostly by furrowing his brow and silently opening and closing his mouth.  
  
“Yeah, I guess… what just happened?”  
  
“Thanks, man, I’ll see you at home?” Monroe says, already backing towards the exit.  
  
“I...uh…yeah, sure. See you.”  
  
And with that he’s left alone, in a room full of penguins, completely and utterly confused.  
  
\------------------------------  
  
“And you found me… how?” Monroe looks from Nick to the window, then stretches his neck to get a better look at the car park. “There isn’t any ‘detail’ on me, is there?”  
  
“Uh, no. You mentioned that you had your support group meetings here Thursdays, figured it was as good a guess as any,” Nick grins and leans to look over Monroe’s shoulder to where three middle-aged men sit gaping in his direction. When he attempts a friendly wave the trio all but hurl themselves behind their table. Nick flashes Monroe a tight-lipped smile. “You guys done, or…? If not I can go–”  
  
“No, no it’s fine. I think we’re finished for tonight,” when Monroe turns to check with his friends they lurch backwards with a whimper. “Yup, that ought to do it. Bar?”  
  
Monroe follows Nick through a wooden doorway and into the next room, where he crosses his arms over the bar. He glances casually to either side and leans in towards the Grimm, his voice a conspiratorial rumble.  
  
“So, what are we dealing with tonight?”  
  
“Uh, we’re not.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Well, you’re always saying about how we only ever talk about Grimm stuff, so I thought we could just, you know. Hang out.”  
  
Monroe trains his eyes on Nick’s, frowning.  
  
“Ok. Hang out.” Monroe’s gaze doesn’t waver as Nick gets two beers from the barman and hands him one, turning to make for a table by the window. They sit. Monroe taps at his bottle.  
  
“So, uh, there’ve been no more gruesome murders anywhere in the city? No one’s had their throat torn out, been disembowelled – nothing like that?” Nick only raises an eyebrow and smirks, taking a swig of his beer. “Right. ‘Hang out’.” Monroe swigs at his.  
  
“So, how was support group?”  
  
“Yeah, ok. Same as usual, really.” Monroe bumps a knee against Nick’s and nods over to the pool room, just visible above the bar. Three wesen faces whip out of view exactly as the Grimm turns to look.  
  
“Ok, so, Wesley, the bigger one, is a Mauzhertz. He’s fallen off the wagon recently.”  
  
“Did anyone get hurt?”  
  
“No, nothing like that. Well. That isn’t really what Mauzhertz are known for. You know how hamsters and rodents tend to squirrel away food, and basically just stuff their faces whenever they can? Survival instincts. Well, Wesley here got banned from Sliders last week.”  
  
Nick raises his eyebrows, laughs.  
  
“Yeah, gave them a run for their money, apparently. They had to close for two days just to restock.”  
  
Monroe’s smile tugs into a grin in response to Nick’s and then the Grimm looks straight at the Blutbad, eyes sparkling. Monroe’s breath hitches. He clears his throat.  
  
“And what about you, no falling off any wagons?”  
  
A smirk flits over Monroe’s features after a moment.  
  
“Nick, if I fell off the wagon, I’m fairly sure you would be the first one they call.”  
  
Nick mentally kicks himself.  
  
“Right…”  
  
Monroe clears his throat.  
  
“But no, no falling off wagons for me. I did have a bag of Frazzles yesterday, but those are actually vegetarian so technically I’m… still sober.”  
  
“Frazzles? Christ, I didn’t know you were having such a bad time. You should have called.” Nick laughs, takes a drink of his beer.  
  
“Yeah, well. Maybe I was worried I would lose control and eat you.”  
  
As the words come out Monroe reddens, but Nick doesn’t seem to notice. His brow furrows and for a moment he hesitates.  
  
“What’s it like? Feeling the woge coming over you?”  
  
Monroe looks at his thumbs running over the label of his bottle, already fraying at the sides where his anxious fingers have been rubbing at it.  
  
“It’s like… have you ever been so angry, or so upset that you didn’t know what to do? I mean, really didn’t know what to do?” He exhales deeply and raises his eyes to Nick’s. “It’s sort of a mix of those two things. You feel lost, both in terms of feeling completely separate from any other person and from just not being able to even think about making any sort of decision or about reacting in any way. It’s like your mind just stops comprehending the things around you consciously, or even in words. And the anger part, that makes you want to do, just do something, anything – move, run, attack.” Monroe gazes back at his bottle, where his short nails have dug away most of the label. After a few moments he notices the silence. “But hey, I did say support group was over for tonight.”  
  
He looks up and Nick’s eyes are dark and intense and just staring at him. The hairs all over his body rise with a shudder and his chest rises. He swallows, feeling a slight panic steal over him. The watch on his wrist ticks in his ears and then Nick’s fingers wrap around the skin next to it. They grip his wrist, firm and unyielding, and then they are gone.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Monroe clears his throat.  
  
“So, what about you? When you Grimm out?”  
  
Nick’s eyes never leave his.  
  
“I guess it’s kinda similar, only it feels less panicked. It’s crazy, because it should panic me, but I don’t know. It feels instinctual somehow. Like all this power and control is suddenly coursing through my body, and like you said, the sentences just disappear from my mind and then I just, I don’t know, react.”  
  
Monroe can see that same confidence radiating off Nick now and a small thrill shoots through him. He was never an alpha, even when he did run with a pack – he was simply too young then, too content to enjoy the fight, the chase, the rut, to concern himself with ideas of leadership. But he has always been a wolf at heart and now the confidence emanating from Nick, the challenge that it brings on its heels, makes him want those things again, the tightly controlled part of him stirring with the anticipation of a hunt.  
  
“Monroe?”  
  
“Hmm? Yes. Sorry, what?” Monroe rattles off, shaking his head a bit and trying to push some interesting hunt-related imagery from his mind. “I must have spaced out.”  
  
“That woman the other day, Helena? You remember – kinda tall, redhead, seemed to think I was your property?”  
  
“Ah, yeah. I was hoping you’d just want to, you know, gloss over that part…”  
  
Nick just stares at him until Monroe cracks.  
  
“Ok man, look, I’m sorry. She must’ve just been able to smell me on you.”  
  
Nick’s eyebrows rise.  
  
“So, what, you’ve been marking me?”  
  
Monroe stares at his bottle like he’s trying to work out a way to drown himself in it.  
  
“Monroe?” He meets his eye. “What’s going on?”  
  
The Blutbad shrugs exaggeratedly and sucks in a breath through his teeth.  
  
“Ok, so, you know how I…pee on my house?” Nick’s eyes immediately widen. “No, wait! That’s not what I meant, I haven’t been, you know…peeing…on you.” Monroe clenches his eyes shut for a moment because yeah, this is certainly going well. “I mean, I do that so that other Blutbaden, other Wesen, know not to make trouble around there, yeah? So, it’s a similar thing. If you smell like me then the big angry Blutbaden will be far less likely to bother you.”  
  
“Well I’m certainly glad about the not-peeing-on-me thing,” Nick widens his eyes meaningfully, one corner of his mouth quirking up.  
  
“Please, I have some self-preservation instincts.”  
  
Nick snorts.  
  
“How come this has never come up before?”  
  
Monroe picks at his bottle.  
  
“It’s recent…”  
  
“So, is it really all that necessary? It isn’t like can’t handle a Blutbad… no offence.”  
  
“Hey, none taken. But there’re all these Wesen traditions and things, so yeah, it’s just, safer. For you.”  
  
“What sort of traditions?”  
  
“Uh, well, the… coming of age thing, then there’s the… paarung-” Monroe just lets his sentence vanish into the neck of this bottle. “-the usual, really. Lots of them, I don’t remember what they’re all called…”  
  
“Huh. Well, the trailer will probably list the sort of thing that scenting is used for, we could just go-“  
  
Monroe quickly follows Nick’s motion to stand, reaching out a hand.  
  
“No! No, that’s, I mean, it isn’t necessary is it?”  
  
“Monroe, are you ok?” Nick looks him over and then says lightly, “I’ll find out sooner or later.”  
  
Monroe groans.  
  
“Fine, but can we do this at home? I haven’t even eaten yet and the stuff they serve here is all deep fried in horse fat or something.”  
  
“Sure, come on. I’ll drive-”  
  
“Great.”  
  
“-and you can talk.”  
  
Monroe grimaces, shrugging into his coat. Chances are Nick would go and look everything up in the trailer whether he said anything or not.  
  
“Can’t wait.”  
  
Nick’s phone rings with the first step he takes towards the exit and he absently fishes it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.  
  
“Hey Hank, what’s up?”  
  
His paces slow as he listens.  
  
“Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”  
  
Nick hangs up and turns to Monroe, who’s only just managing to contain his relief behind what Nick assumes is his nonchalant face.  
  
“They’ve found another body. I can drop you by the park on the way-”  
  
“No, no that’s fine, I’ll walk. Good for the appetite.”  
  
Nick’s already leaving, gesturing to him as he backs towards the door.  
  
“We aren’t done.”  
  
Monroe just waves him out and watches him jog over to his car. Well, he thinks, may as well stay for another and get creative on the damage control…

  



End file.
